Of Brothers and Sisters
by LionsChild
Summary: April is more than just a friend to the four turtle brothers. She gives them something they never had - a sister...:2003, friendship-fic, 4 parts at most:
1. Michelangelo: Piano

Disclaimer: TMNT, the characters, plot etc. do not belong to me and I have no rights to them. The copyright lies with Viacom or Nickelodeon (I'm not sure of the current owner).

I do not earn any money with this fanwork, I write just for fun.

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**1. Piano**

"Put this next to the counter, please? And be careful with the porcelain."

Mikey took the carton and shuffled over to the dangerously high stacked pile of cardboard boxes which occupied most of the space in the back of the salesroom. He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder.

"It's kinda full over there, dontcha think? Your china won't survive long here, if you ask me." He crunched his face, shifting the load in his arms uncomfortably.

April looked up from the showcase she was cleaning out, a rag still clutched in her hand. Her gaze wandered from the mini mountain in front of the cash register over the rain beaten shop windows then to Mikey.

"Maybe there's some space left in the back, just put it where it fits. Oh, and maybe move some of the others there, too." She waved him off.

"Maaan, renovating is such a pain in the shell," Mikey moaned miserably, "Why am I the only one helping you with this? So unjust!"

"Because you are the only one who has nothing to do tonight, that's why."

"Raph and Casey going out to bash some street punks and getting drunk afterwards do not count!"

"Come on, Mikey – where is your chivalrous side?" She grinned mischievously," I'll treat you to some ice-cream when we're finished, how does that sound?"

Mikey was still pouting but his sparkly eyes betrayed his delight.

"Okay, I'm a gentleman, after all. Sooo, beware antiquities of doom! Mikey - Master of Disaster will be your downfall, haha!"

He giggled enthusiastically and dashed of to the backroom, the cardboard box wedged tightly under his elbow. April shook her head, her amusement evident on her face.

'He behaves like a puppy on crack when ice cream waits for him.' She thought, a smile still tucking at her lips. Turning around she finished the shelf and wrapped the remaining figurines in newspaper.

After wiping over the top one last time, April tried to pull the showcase away from the wall she intended to give a new paint job but failed. The dark oak shelf was simply too heavy for her to move by herself. She rubbed her sweaty forehead.

"Mikey, come over here, and help me move away this monstrosity of a cabinet!"

No reaction. He was not in the salesroom and the pile of cartons was still untouched.

"Mikey? Are you still there? I swear, if you deserted me…!"

Still nothing. Agitated April turned around, ready to hunt down the duty shirking turtle but a sound made her pause.

There it was again, that sound. No, not just sound – that was a musical tone made by a piano! The old piano sitting in the hall next to the basement door, to be exact. She almost forgot about that old instrument she had never gotten around to sell.

Why was Mikey playing on that thing?

Confused, April left the salesroom and stepped quietly into the hall. Mikey stood in front of the piano and his right hand hovered over the keyboard. The cardboard box was forgotten by his feet.

April was stricken. Mikey's lowered face was deeply frowning, the lips pulled tight. His eyes darting from his hand to the floor and back again. His expression was heavy with dark emotions.

Michelangelo never looked more sorrowful.

Suddenly he lifted his head and glanced in her direction. His blue eyes were nearly black due to the dim light.

"April, can you play the piano?" His voice was quiet and solemn.

April transferred her weight from one foot to the other then she walked over to her friend.

"Only some basic stuff. I wasn't the most attentive student, back then. Why do you want to know that?"

Mikey shifted uneasily. He chewed his bottom lip and ducked his head. He pressed the C Key again and the sound filled the silence left after April's affirmation.

"It's just … I always wanted to learn an instrument, ya know? Listen to music rocks but making it yourself ... that would be awesome." He mumbled lightly but failed to keep the underlying sadness hidden.

April's left hand found its way to Mikey's shoulder the other went to the keyboard right next to his.

"You want to try it out? I can show you some simple chords, if you want to."

He fidgeted awkwardly.

"I don't think it'll work."

Nevertheless she laid her fingers on the C, E and G key. The harmony resonated behind the dark wood of the instrument.

"That's C-Major. Very common."

April scooted away to give him room but when he spread his hand to imitate her, the sound emitted was anything but pretty. Both of them looked down. His broad fingertips and the sturdy knuckles were too thick to fit on the keys pressing D and F down as well. Michelangelo looked positively crushed.

"See? I got paws like a bear or a yeti or something – music is not for me."

He turned away, but she knew he had tears in his eyes. It broke her heart to see him so unhappy and wrapped her arms around him putting her face next to his.

"You know," she whispered gently. "It's not the end of the world. There are other instruments you could try."

He shook his head dejectedly.

"Won't work either. Each and every one of them has tiny holes or taps or keys, all made for ten fingers, not six. Turtles aren't meant to make music." His harsh breathing turned into sobs.

"It's not fair, not fair at all."

April turned him around and wiped his tears away then cupped his cheeks. Her eyes met his.

"Please don't be so gloomy. What about drums? Or some kind of wind instrument, there are some without grip holes – they are manipulated with the mouth. We'll find some music for you, Mikey."

She smiled lightly and after a brief moment of hesitation he smiled, too.

"Yeah, April," he whispered with tear choked voice, "I would like that."

"And until then, why not sing? I got the sudden desire for something grand." She raised her arms dramatically. "Do you have anything in mind?"

Mikey still had wet cheeks but his usual grin had returned.

"You bet I've got some!"

And so both sat on the wooden floorboards in the hall, singing 'Amazing Grace', 'What to do with a drunken sailor" and every other song they remembered and after that, they invented some more.

The piano however was forgotten for the rest of the night.

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A/N: First of possible four in the Sister-Series. I'm playing piano and sing myself and I think that Mikey is someone who might love music as I do.

As for Mikey being able to press one single key but not more of them: Even people with huge fingers can press piano keys if they go for the right angle. A chord however needs more supple hands because the restriction in movement impedes a convenient angle of the fingers.

"Amazing Grace" is a Christian church song and does not belong to me.

"What to do with a Drunken Sailor" is a drinking song (from Ireland if I remember correctly) and does not belong to me, either.


	2. Donatello: Screws

2. Screws

„Stupid, stupid…here I go again, messing up a perfectly normal moment of brotherhood," Donatello berated himself and glared at the door his brother just vanished through.

The door stared back, unflinchingly.

"Man, I'm such an idiot…"

Sighing, Don turned his swivel chair around. His room, more a lab than a place for comfortable living, was crammed with old glowing monitors, humming computers, bubbling chemical installations, gutted household appliances and uncountable other technical nick-nacks.

Usually he was more than content with his own little world but after rebutting a deeply disappointed Michelangelo, who just wanted to spent some time with him, he was not that sure anymore.

Don tried to finish the diagram he was brooding over before Mikey barged in but he could not return to his former state of mind. Instead of calculating the next column his mind drifted away.

Why seemed he to be incapable to interact with brothers without alienating them?

They could not understand his obsession with science and technology and Don was unable to identify with their respective view of life, their hobbies or their dreams.

The differences seemed to grow with every passing year. Conversations turned into one sided monologues and ended with both parties dissatisfied. Don began avoiding such situations by secluding himself in his lab for hours a day and usually the others tolerated his need for 'alone time'.

Suddenly he was hit by a wave of exhaustion. Abandoning his pencil Don laid his head in his hand, trying to keep out the harsh light of his desk lamp.

'What am I doing here? I should get my ass up and apologize to Mikey for kicking him out like that.'

He attempted to rise but his legs were tingly and uncoordinated after hours of hunching over his project, a new security system. Before even making it to the door Don stumbled over a half-assembled motor block which had been laying there for weeks. He suppressed a curse and limped back to his chair where he checked his bumped toes.

'Great, I'm the worst brother ever. Can't even get myself to say sorry…' He hunched over and buried his head in his hand yet again.

"Hey, Don. What's up?"

Donatello threw himself around and nearly slipped from his seat. Standing in the doorway was April, her arms crossed and a smile on her lips.

"A-April? God, you scared the heck out of me."

He tried to regain his posture and leant back against the back of his chair. She chuckled quietly and walked over to his desk.

"Say, do you know why Mikey tries to crack the highscore on _Ninja Masters _like his life depended on it?"

The guilt hit home immediately and shadowed Don's mind like a dark cloud. He avoided her questioning gaze and began to fumble with some stray screws he forgot to put away earlier.

"My fault. He wanted me to go on a dump run with him. Four eyes see more than two, you now? But I said no – again. That was the fourth time this week I brushed him of! But I have to bring the security system up to date and the freezer is acting up and the ingredients for the smoke bombs need improvement and Raph's shell cycle –"

"Stop, Donnie! Take a breath and calm down."

April looked at him worriedly as he leaned against his desk and touched his arm. Her hand on his shoulder calmed him down a little but his thoughts were still running a mile a minute. It took him several minutes to collect his wits enough to look embarrassed.

"Sorry April, freaking out was not on my schedule today."

She looked at him with sad eyes. Her grip on his shoulders tightened comfortingly.

"Don, you don't have to get worked up over these things like that. It's not normal to bury yourself in work like that. It's unhealthy. There has to be a reason for your anxiety."

Don met April's eyes and led the screws drop on the table.

"It's just – my brothers and I, damn." He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"They do not understand me or what I'm doing. And I don't get most of the things they talk about. We seem to use entirely different languages without a dictionary available. But look at me! Instead of solving the issue I just alienate them even more and push them away."

April sighed and shook her head.

"Donnie, you share so much with your brothers. Your connection with each other is far stronger than the one human siblings usually have. I know you think that you don't fit in because of your scientific mind. But you have so much in common with your brothers. What about Raph? Don't you have anything common?"

Don rubbed his thighs, unsure how to answer her question.

"Uh, Raph? We, uh, we both like mechanics. The shell cycle…"

He broke off, contemplating. She continued her prodding.

"Leo?"

"We are the responsible ones. We listen to Master Splinter far more attentively than the others. We like security and we check everything at least twice."

She smiled encouragingly.

"And Mikey?"

"I don't know. Actually the only thing we have in common is that we are the youngest family members. We also like to make our home more comfortable. I care about electricity and security, he cooks and his presence makes the lair as lively as it is."

Don's eyes widened this understanding. A smile graced his face.

"See? There are no differences big enough to warrant your worries. Don't you think it's time for you to challenge Mikey at _Ninja Masters_? Your work won't run away, it'll still be there tomorrow."

Donatello's face had lightened up considerably and with a rushed "thank you" he left the lab.

He had to beat his baby brother's highscore.

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A/N: Hello again, dear readers! I'm really sorry for the delay, I'm a lazy butt, hehe. I struggled somewhat with Donnie's characterization though he's my favourite turtle and I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter. Hopefully my aim was not too far off.

Feel free to hunt for mistakes – I'll correct them if you point them out to me.


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